


One Last Hunt

by deandoesthingstome



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:54:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4927600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deandoesthingstome/pseuds/deandoesthingstome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader meets the boys while taking on a nest of vampires who killed her family. The boys are interested in her story, which is heartbreaking for her. When the loss overwhelms her, reader turns to Dean for comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Last Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> There’s no imagine, no request this is based on. Just my own imagination. Also, I don’t own any of these characters, just borrowing for bit.

You dropped your bag just inside the motel room door and opened the mini fridge to grab a cold beer. Popping the top, you took a long, hard drink, then finished the bottle in two more swigs and grabbed another out of the fridge. You took a drink from the second bottle and placed it on the dresser, staring at your horrific state in the mirror. You practically sprinted to the bathroom, suddenly desperate to rid yourself of your bloody clothes and clean yourself up after this hunt. You had finally located the nest of vamps that had destroyed your life and it had been a knock-down, drag out fight. Someone ( _or two_?) had helped, you think.

But the fight had been a blur and you rushed back to safety as soon as all heads were off. You peeled your blood and sweat stained clothes off and turned on the shower. As you waited for the water to warm to an acceptable temperature, you realized you’d left your beer in the room. A cold beer in a warm shower was a treat you damn well deserved. You opened the bathroom door and stifled a scream as you noticed the form lounging on your bed.

“Who the fuck are _you_?” you hollered, crouching a bit and trying to cover your naked body as you stood in the doorway. You could have just backed up into the bathroom and locked the door, but all your weapons were in the bag near the front door. You contemplated how to get to even one gun, one knife. You silently cursed yourself for not keeping any weapons on you and realized if you had followed that sage advice from the last hunter you met, you’d have something in the bathroom on the floor with all your clothes that you could use for defense.

You also cursed yourself for taking the time to notice how ruggedly good looking this green-eyed intruder was. As he sat forward on the bed, you got the feeling he was aware you weren’t just eyeing him out of fear. He also began to look vaguely familiar. When you realized this was one of the dynamic duo that had taken on a few of the vamps on the outskirts of your fight tonight, you began to let your guard down. And by let your guard down, you meant, “ _Fuck this if I’m going to be crouched and frightened in my own goddamned room._ ”

You dropped any pretense of trying to hide your form from this Adonis-like intruder. You crossed to the dresser and grabbed your beer, then turned back to the bathroom and slammed the door behind you. You were pretty sure you were safe from this guy, as bold as he was entering your room unannounced. And given that his partner had seemed about four inches taller than this one and had shaggy long hair you were also becoming surer that this was Dean Winchester in your room. A hunter and certainly not a threat to you.

Once you were in the shower, the bathroom door opened slowly. “I’m unarmed,” he called out.

“Clearly I am too, asshole. Still haven’t answered my question,” you spat out, angry that this well-deserved shower was being interrupted, even if by someone so handsome.

“Uh, Dean. Dean Winchester,” he stammered, caught off guard by your continued brashness.

“Thought so. Where’s the pretty one?”

“Pretty…? Sammy? Uh, yeah, he’s just down the way.” Then, as if suddenly realizing why he was in your room in the first place, “What the fuck was that, by the way? Where’d you get the stones to take on a nest by yourself?”

“Wasn’t exactly alone, was I?”

“Riighht,” he drawled out slowly, “…but you didn’t know we were close behind, so what gives? That was pretty reckless for a hunter.”

You let the water rush over you, took another swig of beer and moved the curtain slightly to place the bottle on the sink next to the shower. You could see Dean sitting on the toilet, staring straight ahead, trying to be gentlemanly. You smiled to yourself at his courtesy, wondering if you should drop the act and just let him know that you weren’t a hunter. Not the way he and Sam were. Then your smile faded and you began to realize just what all this meant. You had succeeded.

“Look, I would love to give you the play by play, exchange notes on technique and all, but I’m a little occupied here,” you kept up the act.

“Alright, listen. My bad for coming in uninvited. But you have intrigued us. We just want to ask you a few questions.”

“Do these questions have to be asked while I’m naked in a shower washing vampire blood off my body?” you were softening just a bit, letting the rage you had felt for so long run down the drain with the dirty water. You were wondering if you could maybe even get back to a normal life now.

“No, they do not. Look, we’re in 129, just down the way. Knock when you’re done and we’ll go get dinner. You probably need to get your strength back after that battle,” Dean offered gently. You had caught him off guard too and all his annoyance at your recklessness was melting away.

“Was just going to down a fifth and get some sleep,” you replied.

“Revenge, then,” Dean pronounced. “Am I right?”

“Right about what?” you asked.

“You were hunting for revenge,” Dean declared. “Well, don’t dwell on it too long. It’ll fuck you up. 129.”

And with that he was gone. You grabbed the beer from the sink, finished it off and then continued with your shower. Once you were dried and dressed, in jeans, a tank with a flannel and boots, you walked down the breezeway to the Winchesters’ room and knocked. Dean answered the door, keys in hand. “Took you long enough.” You blushed, recalling that you had taken a little extra time in the shower, not just to clean up but to get off as well. You had needed to relax and what better way? Plus, some new material had walked in on you. You couldn’t resist a little fantasy about the elder Winchester. You’d heard so much about him and he so far had exceeded all expectations. And that was just in the few glimpses you had of him. “Let’s hit it, Sammy.”

His height was not unexpected, but it took you aback anyway. Sam towered almost a foot over you and you had to practically tilt your head back to get a good look. You offered your hand, “Y/N. My name’s Y/N. And thank you, for back there.” You turned to Dean, already past you and on his way to the car, “You too, Dean. Thank you.”

Dean turned, grabbed your outreached hand and shook firmly. “Nice to meet you finally, Y/N. And you’re welcome. Now let’s eat. I’m starvin’!”

You settled into the back seat as Sam turned to you to ask what you wanted to eat. “Diner or bar?”

“Y/N’s looking to drown her sorrows in a fifth of something, so I vote bar. We can get burgers and whiskey, kill two birds and whatnot,” Dean answered for you.

“That okay?” Sam asked kindly.

“Sounds good,” you replied. You were wearing down.

At the bar, Sam grabbed a table while Dean headed to grab menus and the first round. You sat across from the brothers trying to figure out how you were going to make it through this meal without vomiting. At the motel room, Dean had been a distraction. You had been unable to truly contemplate what had happened tonight, what it all meant. It was flooding in now, the truth. What had happened, everything you had done.

“Dean says you were looking for revenge,” Sam inquired. “That true?”

You hesitated and thought back to when it all began. When you had walked in on the nest feeding on your family and turned to run. Dean interrupted your macabre reverie and placed a shot of whiskey and a beer in front of you. You slammed the liquor immediately, grateful for a distraction. As you took a long pull from your beer, watching as Sam and Dean did as well, you half hoped Sam would drop it.

“So, revenge?” Nope, he definitely wasn’t dropping it.

“They killed my family.” There. It was out. And you couldn’t stop talking all of the sudden. Over the next hour, Dean waved the waitress off four times as you blurted out the whole story. How your family had been killed by this nest and you could never figure out how or why you had been spared. How you grieved for a month but snapped when one of the vamps showed back up in town and you recognized him. How you had foolishly followed him with no weapons and watched him claim another victim in your town. How you began to obsess. Search for stories of strange deaths in local towns. How you traveled to these towns and watched carefully. How a few months into it, you realized what you were looking for was someone who knew what they were doing. How you began to hook up with random hunters to gather information and learn how to fight the creatures.

“Why’d you think you could handle them on your own?” Sam asked the same question Dean had, just with a little more kindness in his voice.

“That is not the question, is it?” you replied pointedly. “The question is, why did I feel like I HAD to handle them on my own?” Sam swallowed hard and Dean’s face softened as they realized just what these kills meant to you.

“You wanted to avenge your family.” You nodded at Dean, staring a little longer than required into his penetrating eyes.

“It’s funny, you know. The last hunter I was with warned me about trying to take this nest on myself. He said if I was serious about clearing them out, I should contact you two. No, CONTRACT, you two,” you laughed a little.

“I ain’t sayin’ you didn’t kick serious ass out there, but yeah, you should’ve called us,” Dean said.

“Let’s order. I’m starving,” and you turned to flag the waitress down, desperate suddenly to stop talking about all this. “Another round please, or actually make it two more. And I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries. No onions, please.”

“Sure thing, Sugar. You two?” The boys gave their orders and the waitress returned with six more shots and six more beers. As you ate, you felt your walls falling down. All the hardness you’d built up, just melting away. You had been out here for eleven months, steeling yourself against the pain and heartache of losing your family. Losing your family. Your. Entire. Family.

The tears started suddenly and did not stop, not even when you reached the cool night air. Strong hands gripped your shoulders, turned you around and you were enveloped in an embrace of whiskey and gasoline scented flannel. You broke down into it, sobbing with everything you’d hidden away.

“You need to get out of here?” Dean asked. You nodded, still sobbing. He handed you the keys, “Get in the car. Let me settle up inside and get Sam.”

The drive back to the motel was silent. Neither brother said a word, unsure of what you needed. Comfort? Consolation? Congratulations? Dean walked you to your room, standing close as you opened the door. You glanced down the walkway and saw Sam enter their room without looking in your direction. You turned to look at Dean and felt a desire rise up inside you. All the energy, anger, purpose you had previously, suddenly had no place inside you and needed a new outlet.

You leaned into Dean, grabbed a fistful of shirt to bring him down to your level and kissed him hard. “Don’t say a word,” you instructed as you pulled him into the room and shut the door. Dean obliged, letting his mouth speak in another way. His lips were soft but his kiss was intense, feverish. His tongue demanded a place inside your mouth. He hands were all over you, unbuttoning your shirt and sliding it off your shoulders. His hands moved down your back and he dipped slightly, cupping your ass and compelling you wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bed.

He dropped you gently, but you hung on to his neck bringing him down on top of you. You spread your legs slightly so he could rest between them and a moan escaped his lips when you ground your core up into him. He reached down to unbutton your jeans as you kicked off your boots one by one. He knelt off the bed, pulling your jeans and panties down, then stood and took off his own flannel and t-shirt. You scooted back farther onto the bed then pulled off your tank and unhooked your bra. Dean hovered over you, grasping the straps and pulling the lacy item down your arms, tossing it aside.

He dove to take a breast in his mouth, tongue lapping and prodding at your nipple, while his right hand caressed your other bare breast. As you warmed to the touch of this not-quite stranger, you ran your own hands down his bare sides and slipped fingers inside the waistband of his jeans. You brought your hands up his back and grabbed hold of his head, tugging gently to bring him up so you could put your mouth back on his. You sucked at his lower lip and slid your tongue inside his mouth, keeping a steady hold on his neck, practically daring him to try and pull away from you.

He was going nowhere. You kissed Dean with all the passion you had left in you for what felt like hours, feeling his hand run all over your naked body squeezing here, groping there, stroking here, dipping in there. You spread yourself wide for him, feeling his firm fingers drag through your folds. His thumb pressed attentively at your clit, eliciting a deep sigh as your eyes closed involuntarily and you tightened your grip on his neck.

“I know you said, ‘say nothing’ and I am sensing you are enjoying what we got going on here, but I need to know if you want something else,” Dean breathed into your ear, nipping at your lobe, licking down your chin. You gasped as he slid two, then three fingers deep inside your achingly wet pussy, pumping slowly at first, measuring your reaction.

“Ah, fuck,” you exclaimed, turning to kiss him hard. “That, I need that. I need you to fuck me, Dean.”

Dean increased the speed of his fingers moving in and out of you, twisting slightly, probing you and watching your face as your pleasure spread across it. You bent your legs to give more space and grabbed ahold of his arm, bucking up against it as if he could fit the whole thing inside you. Dean got the picture, pulled his hand out and stood at the edge of the bed to finish undressing. He grabbed a condom from the wallet in his pocket and rolled it on before kneeling again between your open legs.

In a quick instant he was inside you, propping himself up on one strong forearm while the other grabbed your waist, gripping you tightly as if he needed to keep you steady. He was tentative, sliding in and out slowly. You wrapped a leg around his hips and urged him on with a nudge against his ass.

“Harder. I won’t break, Dean,” you moaned. You were heated, feeling every ounce of pain melt away, replaced by the pleasure you felt. As Dean picked up speed and intensity, driving deeper and deeper into you with every trust, you felt all your sorrow fading away. You were no longer consumed by a desire to kill. You were in this moment, feeling this connection, feverishly wishing you could melt into him. If there was a way to get closer, you wanted that. You had been alone for so long now. Not even the other hunters you had shacked up with over the year had been able to get through the wall you put up. You had needed to be hard, to find the strength to go on after your family was gone and to kill the bastards that had done that to you.

Now that you had reached your goal, you were finally able to break free of that heavy load. You wrapped your other leg around his waist, tilting your hips up slightly to allow him additional space. “Oh, fuck, Y/N. You feel so good,” Dean groaned as he ground even deeper into you. When you felt him hitting as far back as he could, you let out a cry of pleasure, feeling the rolling waves of orgasm begin. Shivers ran up your spine and you knew you were close.

You bucked wildly against each of his thrusts, trying desperately to get even closer to him. With his next thrust, your dam broke and a wave of pleasure floated through you. As the relief washed over you, the tears began again. Knowing he was not quite done, but doubting you could stop the flow, you turned your head away from him and pulled his head down to your neck, hiding your tears from him for as long as it took.

Not too much longer. Your walls were still contracting around him, milking him and making it harder and harder for him to keep thrusting. He came with a loud growl, attempting to stifle it by biting your neck. When he finished, he pulled out tentatively and reached for your face to kiss you. Only then did he notice the tears.

“Shit, Y/N,” Dean exclaimed. “Did I hurt you?” His eyes were wild with concern and he rolled off you to his side, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. You couldn’t stop crying long enough to tell him this wasn’t him. This was the final piece of the journey you had taken and when you realized it wasn’t going to bring your family back, you lost it. Wonderful timing.

“Shh, Shh, Shh. Please. Don’t cry. What did I do?” Dean was worried and you were trying to gain composure to put him at ease. You wiped some tears from your cheek and kissed him softly.

“Not you. Me. Fucked up,” you whispered. “I thought the kills would take away the pain and sorrow.”

“They don’t,” Dean replied tenderly. “I warned you not to dwell on it.”

“I’m not a hunter Dean. I don’t do this like you and Sam. This was all I did. Hunt those bastards. Now that it’s over, I don’t…I can’t…I have no idea…” you stammered.

“You are a hunter. A damn fine one, clearly,” Dean remarked. You gave him a rueful smile.

“Not what I wanted, you know.”

Dean kissed your forehead, “Sure, kid. Not what anyone wants.” You were exhausted and your eyes were closing. Your breathing was becoming heavy. “Go to sleep, now. Don’t think about this anymore tonight.”

“Goodnight Dean, and thank you,” you kissed him one last time, full on the mouth before drifting off to sleep.

You woke up a few hours later and gazed at the sleeping giant next to you. You lifted his arm off your waist, slid out of bed and tiptoed to the bathroom, grabbing your clothes along the way. You dressed as quietly as you could, then packed your toiletries. Out in the room, you let your eyes adjust to the darkness, grateful for the bright neon motel sign shining a bit of light through the slightly parted curtain. Your hunting bag was still on the floor near the door. You opened the dresser drawer as carefully as you could, trying to make no sound. You scooped up the clothes in the top drawer, left it open so you didn’t have to try to hide that sound again and walked to the bag.

The zipper was the worst. Did you go slowly or Band-Aid the thing, get it over with quick? Quickly, you decided, glancing at Dean and seeing that he was still sleeping. You dropped your clothes and toiletry bag in the duffel, shrugged into your jacket, and crept quietly out of the room. Once the door was shut tight, you pulled your car keys from your pocket and unlocked your car door. You tossed the duffel in the back seat and headed to the front office.

You rang the bell and handed the room key to the sleepy teen behind the desk. As you handed him cash to pay for the last night of your stay, you asked if he could delay the room turn a bit. “I left someone sleeping in there. He’s got his own room, just never made it back to it last night.” You couldn’t care less about the smug leer the lanky kid gave you, but you didn’t want to wake Dean so soon and hoped he’d be out of the room before the maid came to prepare it for the next guest. “I’m sure he’ll be gone later this morning.”

“Sure, lady. But it’s another $10 for an extra person.” You were too tired to argue and desperate to hit the road before Dean did realize you were gone. Ignoring the urge to teach this brat a lesson about double charging folks, you tossed another bill his way, spitting out a sarcastic “Thanks, kid.”

You climbed in your car and started the engine, idling for a few moments, debating. You grabbed a pen and pad of paper from the glove box, jotted your number down and tore the page from the pad. You opened the car door slowly, cursing yourself for forgetting the wd-40 again. You walked down the breezeway to 129 and turned to the Chevy in the spot in front of the room. You slid the folded paper under the wiper, then headed back to your car.

As you drove off the lot, you glanced in the rear-view mirror. 129 was still closed, but the door to your room was just opening.


	2. Maybe One More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean shows up unexpectedly at Reader's place of work several months from the time she skipped out after their one night stand.

After spreading the dark blue blanket over the soft, white cotton sheets on the table, you grabbed your clip board and headed down the hall. Perusing the details to see what kind of service you would be providing, you chuckled lightly at the name. “Really? John Bonham?” you thought to yourself. As you stepped into the lounge and called out your client’s name, you finally looked up to meet the gaze of the man who stood in response. Your breath caught in your chest.

It had been eight months since you left Dean Winchester in a motel room after a using him to rebound from a particularly gruesome vampire nest cleanout. Your massage therapy license had remained valid while you were out avenging the death of your family and you’d been able to get the required continuing certification hours complete to renew once you got back home. A national chain of massage therapy clinics was just opening up and you were hired almost immediately. Serendipity.

Trying to regain composure and keep up appearances, you offered your hand, “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, John. Follow me please.”

Dean shook your hand gently, a slightly confused but pleasantly surprised look on his face. As you led him down the hall, you glanced repeatedly over your shoulder to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Stopping at the door to your room, you motioned Dean inside and shut the door behind you. Dean glanced around and raised an eyebrow at the glowing electric candle on the low table by the door, cocking and shaking his head lightly at the new age flute music wafting through the speakers. Then he turned his gaze back to you.

Your heart was beating wildly and you could feel the heat rising. Memories of your night with Dean came flooding back. You were also slightly embarrassed to be seeing him again in this way after so long. He had called soon after you left, but left a voicemail when you didn’t pick up. He wanted to let you know his numbers and begged you to stay safe if you chose to keep hunting. Let you know you could call anytime.

You had called back a week or so later and tried to make small talk, then paused and began a real conversation. You went back and forth with him about whether or not you’d stay back home or move on since your family was gone; if you’d keep hunting. Though you kept in touch for the next several weeks, it had been increasingly hard to reach Dean. He had warned you the job sometimes left him out of reach. By the end of the second month with no contact, you began to leave it behind, assuming he either had no time or just wasn’t into you.

Standing in front of him now, pulse pounding in your ears, you wondered if that was still the case. You waited only a few more seconds to discover the answer. Dean rushed you, pressing you back into the door, grabbing hold of your neck and waist and pressing his lips firmly to yours, urging your mouth open so he could snake his tongue inside. You broke free after a minute, gasping for breath.

“Dean,” you whispered. Then clearing your throat, “I have to step out and pretend to let you undress for a few minutes, but I’ll be right back.” You stared into his deep green eyes as you reached behind your back, grasped and turned the knob and opened the door. “Sir, please lay face down on the table and I’ll be back in just a moment,” you called as you stepped back into the hallway and shut the door.

A few moments later, you knocked lightly and opened the door again, wondering in what state of undress Dean might be. Your heart sank to see him still fully dressed. “You said pretend, so I didn’t know if I should undress or not. What are you doing here?”

“Well, I work here. And I’d ask why you’re here, but it’s becoming clear to me that the recent client deaths might be related to your sudden appearance.”

“Ever observant the hunter must be,” Dean teased you.

“I’m not a hunter,” you replied. “I’m a masseuse. Speaking of which, did you really want a massage? You can’t have known I’d be the one to get your appointment, so you must have intended to go through with the session. Anything you want me to work on? I added another 30 minutes since I don’t have any clients after you.”

“I got something you can work on,” Dean growled.

“Dean!” you slapped his shoulder lightly. “Be serious.”

“What? I’m totally serious. I got this kink I haven’t been able to get rid of,” he rubbed his neck dramatically.

“Didn’t you come for a case? Don’t you want to know what I know?”

Dean stepped to you slowly, encircled you in his arms and pulled you close. “Of course I want to know what you know. But I can’t stop thinking about you and there is this incredibly sexy music playing and candles glowing and all I really want to do right now is bend you over that table and have you one more time.”

You swallowed hard, reached up to grab his neck. “Have at it.” Dean’s mouth immediately crashed down again on yours. Sliding your hands down his chest, you unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulders. Once his arms were free again, he grabbed a fistful of fabric, pulling the hem of your shirt out of the waistband of your pants and drawing it up slowly. He was delaying the inevitable break in kissing you’d have to endure so he could drag the shirt off over your head, but the glance of his fingertips along your bare skin was driving you insane.

“Dean, please. I want your hands all over me,” you begged. He obliged, tossing the shirt aside and returning to drag your bra straps down, squeezing your shoulders along the way. You reached back to unhook your bra, allowing the cups to drop and leaving your breasts bare. Dean placed his hands on each breast, leaning back in to kiss you again while he fondled the flesh, pinching lightly at each nipple.

Reaching down between the two of you, you began to undo the button and zipper on Dean’s pants, pushing his jeans and boxers down just past his firm ass. He released your breasts to return the favor and knelt to bring your pants all the way down. Slipping out of your sneakers, you stepped out of your pants as well. Dean reached around to grab your ass, then slid his hands down to the back of your thighs and coaxed your legs slightly apart. He pressed his face closer, tongue darting out to flick lightly at your clit before probing your dampening folds.

With a sigh, your head fell back and you grabbed the back of Dean’s head to urge him on. Dean moved his right hand down your left thigh a little farther, grasping behind your knee and urging your leg up off the ground and over his shoulder. You leaned back against the table for support. The angle provided his tongue easier access to your aching pussy. He licked and sucked, eliciting low moans from you. “Fuck, Dean. That feels so good.”

“You taste amazing, Y/N. I could do this all day.”

“You only have 80 more minutes,” you were breathless.

“Better get back to work then,” Dean returned to pleasuring you. His hand was stroking your thigh hooked over his shoulder. You grabbed his hand and guided it further up your inner thigh. Dean got the hint, pulled his hand from on top of your thigh and back under your leg so he could replace his tongue with his fingers. You gasped as two strong digits wound their way inside you, stroking and curling expertly. Dean’s tongue resumed flicking at your clit, sending jolts of electricity through you.

Your pleasure was building and soon Dean’s deep strokes had you practically wailing. You tried to stifle your cries against the back of your hand, for fear they could be heard in the other rooms. Dean put your leg down gently and smirked back up at you. Chest heaving, you grabbed his head and pulled him up to a deep, wet kiss, relishing your taste on his lips.

“Fuck, you do that well. Now about that kink.” You gave Dean a sultry look, then turned toward the massage table and bent over. You wiggled your ass at him while you looked back over your shoulder. “What are you waiting for? Engraved invitation?”

Dean bent to unlace his boots and struggle the rest of the way out of his jeans. “Really?” he asked, sounding a bit like a kid in a candy store. At your smile, he pulled his wallet out of his pants and fished out a condom. He unrolled the latex over his length and stepped towards you, running his hands over your ass, squeezing in appreciation. Then he ran a hand down between your legs, dipping inside your core to make sure you were still well lubricated from your previous orgasm. Grabbing hold of his covered cock he slid deep inside you and returned his hands to your waist to hold you steady.

Your head dropped involuntarily, as you welcomed the fullness Dean provided. He was already deep inside you and the position gave him unfettered access to your g-spot. He wasted no time locating and striking it over and over, threatening to send you over the edge again immediately. You shuddered when he did, tossing a sensual look over your shoulder, “Fuck, yeah, Dean.”

Dean redoubled his efforts, bringing on another tiny shudder. You couldn’t stifle the laugh the pleasure was giving you. “Oh, fuck Dean. You do this well too.”

“So unfair, really,” he replied, not slowing down at all.

“What’s that?”

“Sweetheart, I get one shot. Trying to make this feeling last as long as I can and you’re here cumming all over the place.”

You giggled lightly, “You can have more than one shot, Dean. You just have to return my calls.”

“Now you’re just being cruel.”

“Come on Dean, cum for me.”

“Yeah? You ready for that? Sure you don’t want a few more of your own?” Dean was teasing you again, but you could tell he was serious by the concentrated look that washed over his face. He wanted to make you cum again. He bent over you, ghosting kissed along the back of your neck and distracting you from his hand, which was traveling around your waist. Another moan escaped your lips when you felt his fingers begin to rub your clit. After several more moments of his cock thrusting in and out and his fingers playing lightly on your clit you came again.

“Jesus!”

“Yeah, girl. Goddamn you feel so good. Ah, fuck, …..Fuck!” And with that Dean joined your bliss. You could swear he grew a tiny bit wider just before he came, the extra pressure sending one last shock wave through you. He collapsed against you, rough stubbled cheek against your back and chest heaving.

After you both caught your breath, he pulled out and removed the condom, wrapping it in a tissue before tucking it in his jean pocket. “I’m just going to assume you don’t want the cleaning crew finding this.”

“You’re so considerate.”

You had turned to face him and bent to pick up your bra. As you rose he captured you in another kiss. Finally, he broke off, allowing you to finish dressing while he did the same.

“So this case?” you asked.

“Yeah, the case. Well, Sam’s at the coroner’s questioning the M.E. I was supposed to get the scoop here but I think our time might be up.”

“I’m through for the day. I can meet you somewhere and let you know what I know. I also have keys to the joint if you need to get back in tonight or something.”

“You up for helping take on whatever this is? You been keeping in practice?”

You hesitated, “I’m not a hunter, Dean.”

“You are.”


End file.
